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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797227">The Chronicle of the Traveler</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Civiel/pseuds/Civiel'>Civiel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, One Shot Collection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:21:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Civiel/pseuds/Civiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of one shots not unlike the official "tales from..." stories. These snippets explore the life of Azem and their relationship with the members of the convocation of fourteen and Hythlodaeus. I am keeping this as lore friendly and canonically accurate as possible with the limited information we have from life before the sundering. Please enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Fourteenth Seat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Herein I commit the chronicle of the traveler. Shepherd to the stars in the dark. Though the world be sundered and our souls set adrift, where you walk, my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow. For yours is the Fourteenth seat—the seat of Azem"<em></em></em>
</p><p>She’d traverse the gardens on the rooftop of the bureau on many an occasion. Normally, it would be filled with people. Robed citizens of Amaurot with gentle voices, leading relaxed conversation about the weather and the news. They would appreciate the beauty of the garden, as did all, as it was both grand and lovely, but they would not truly see.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It was easier during the night when there were no distractions. She liked sensing the grass under her feet. She would stop to smell the assorted species of colourful flowers, feel the gentle wind on her face, and simply live in this moment of complete serenity. The nights were especially tranquil. As the warm lights of the lamps bathed the cobbled paths in a familiar glow, and the thousands of stars in the sky above reflected in the pools of water that had been left with the previous day’s rain, she felt more home than ever. True belonging was not to be found in the buzzing streets, the lecture halls, or among her excited kin discussing the next concept of creation. True peace was not at the comfort of the apartment in which she slept, or in a familiar setting with familiar people, it was here, under the stars, where she was granted a moment’s rest from her soul’s relentless yearning for something more. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The gardens were not open for the public at night-time, which technically meant that the gardens were not open for her at night-time, but this had not deterred the woman from sneaking her way in. Amaurot was a city mostly quite lax on matters of security, instead relying upon the goodwill of the citizens to follow all rules and regulations, which to her defence, she mostly did follow. Tonight, was a special night however, she might not have time for many of these quiet moments in the future, she pondered. So, what better way to celebrate, she had figured, than doing one last forbidden excursion to clear her mind amidst the flowers and the silence. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>As she bent down to pick up a tiny, withered flower that had caught her attention, a familiar voice broke the silence. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Well, well..”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>She jumped to her feet, accidentally dropping the flower on the ground while turning towards the source of the sound.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I thought these hours of day would leave me an opportunity to be alone, but alas, it seems the universe deny me even such simple pleasures” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The man of which the voice belonged, stood on the cobbled path under one of the streetlamps nearest to her. As she recognized the familiar mask, her shoulders relaxed, and she sighed in relief before the cloaked figure continued.<br/>
“You and Hythlodaeus seem to be hellbent on materializing out of thin air whenever I want some peace and quiet, did you practice together?”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A smile crept up her face at his feigned exasperation, and she answered playfully:</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Ah, Hades”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>At the mention of his name she noticed his brow furrowing, even underneath the recognizable red mask belonging to his seat of the convocation. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“It’s been Emet-Selch for a while now, you know, it seems you’re determined to overlook that fact”.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Emet-Selch spoke the words with an exasperated sigh, but the attitude of his voice had shifted, betraying an uncharacteristically friendly tone, a tone reserved only for a select few.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>He moved towards her, his gaze glancing over the flowers of which she had been so deeply mesmerized by only moments before, his eyes stopping at the withered bud she had held in her hand before he arrived. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“And what should I call you today, my friend? Intruder or thief?” He gently picked up the flower, before he continued. “You know you’re not allowed to pick the flowers, nor even be up here at night without the convocation’s approv-“</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You can call me Azem” Her voice rang out, piercing the stillness of the night air. It was louder than she had intended as she interrupted him mid-sentence. Like a sigh of relief, she spoke the name.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Azem</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Just as the words had left her mouth, she felt oddly defeated, and her gaze turned downwards. This was the first time since she had heard the news that she had told anyone of her acceptance to the Convocation of Fourteen. It was not until now that the news dawned upon her. In that moment, she truly realized what this new office would mean for her future, and she felt a pang of melancholy.   </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Azem…” Emet-Selch repeated the name, and she felt another pang of melancholic pensiveness. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The two stood in quiet reflection for a few seconds, before Emet-Selch spoke again.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You were accepted for the fourteenth seat?” He hesitated for a second “I wasn’t notified...”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>As Azem looked up at her fellow convocation member, the expression on his face, one of obvious confusion, made her feel slightly better. He was not a man which one easily caught off-guard, these moments were rare indeed. Azem sighed but mustered a smile. She would have to sacrifice so much of her personal freedom to take the office of the fourteenth seat, the scrutiny of public opinion, the meetings, the decisions, the thousands of eyes that would watch her every move, but at least, she thought, she would have all the time in the world to bicker with Hades over matters both small and big. The seat also meant opportunity, the opportunity to make their world a better place, and for this, she had promised herself, she would fight. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Now now my dearest Emet-Selch, I will forgive your transgressions today, in light that we are friends” She smiled mischievously, barely keeping her feigned, serious composure as Hades’ sighed<br/>
“but as we now are equals, I will expect the appropriate respect coming from you in the days to come” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Azem grinned before turning her back to her friend and her gaze to the stars, and then she giggled, almost childishly in its tone. Azem stretched out her arms, as if to embrace the endless sea of stars above. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“But come, Emet-Selch, the night is ours, what do you want to make of it?”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Azem, with her back turned, did not see that the robed man could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. In that moment, Hades, the seat of Emet-Selch and eternal cynic, thought to himself that Azem was not so different from the stars up there in the night sky.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Concepts of Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lahabrea is bothered by a stubborn convocation member that tries to convince him to grant her access to a creation of his own design; the concept of Ifrita.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Lahabrea, please” The voice of the younger convocation member rang out in the empty hall, as the victim of her nagging walked towards the exit with a determined stride.</p><p>“Azem, I’ve told you before, I won’t help you with whatever it is that you’re planning” </p><p>“If you would just give me access to Ifrita”</p><p>Lahabrea stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face the woman. He was taller than her by a considerable percentage, which would serve as an advantage if he tried intimidating her from standing down, but deep in his heart he knew that such tactics would make no difference. Azem was notoriously relentless in her persistency. </p><p>“Azem, truly, I do not have the time for this, please leave it be” Lahabrea made a dismissive hand gesture before he turned around, determined to start walking again. Before the man could get very far however, Azem grabbed his arm and held him back, her grip far tighter than one would expect from a woman her size. </p><p>With a polite tone with badly concealed insistency she spoke again “It would take but a moment, I would not dream of keeping you from your duties for long”</p><p>Lahabrea started getting visibly annoyed now, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing as he met hers. They were intense, as if she tried staring into his very soul. It would be no use, Lahabrea thought, he would not let her win, but still, he had to admit that her gaze intimidated him by the sheer relentlessness it betrayed. He did not want to deny her the concepts of Ifrita because he thought she could not handle the fighting her plan to stop the volcano would inevitably involve, far from it; Azem was skilled at magic and the martial arts both, and her relentlessness served her well in the heat of battle. Lahabrea knew however, that this plan would cause problems of considerable size to the rest of the convocation, it was not their place to meddle in such preordained matters of trivial importance, and if Azem would naively choose to intervene without the convocation’s approval, it would only bring difficulties for all. </p><p>Azem had been a handful since she joined the convocation. The seat of the traveler had historically been a seat of, well, the slightly eccentric among the citizens of Amaurot, but Azem was not just eccentric, she was stubborn and unpredictable on another level entirely. She had been censured on more than one occasion throughout her career, and he had no doubt that she would have been forced to vacate her position if it had not been for the kindness of the current Emissary and the support of her friends in the convocation. </p><p>Lahabrea sighed, why for example, did the normally sardonic Emet-Selch go to such lengths to keep Azem in the convocation? He had no answer, and so he dismissed the thought lest it should give him a headache. </p><p>“For both your own sake and my own” Lahabrea paused mid-sentence, looking down at Azem’s gloved hand which remained firmly gripped around his arm before he continued. “I will not help you this time”</p><p>As he tried breaking free from Azem’s iron grip, she suddenly loosened her hold on him and exhaled in an over expressively manner. She let her arms fall to her side in defeat before she spoke again. </p><p>“I will not keep you Lahabrea. I am sorry to have bothered you” </p><p>Before Lahabrea could think, Azem turned her back to him and started walking in the opposite direction. He could swear that he had seen a glint of mischief in her eyes before she let go of his arm however, and considering her reputation of being exceedingly stubborn, her willingness to give up this time did not reassure him. She was up to something; he was sure of it. </p><p>“Azem” Lahabrea called out her name as the woman readjusted her hood and continued her stroll towards the big metal door of the hallway. Her stride was oddly nonchalant for someone who had just been put in her place by a senior convocation member, and this, Lahabrea thought, was more worrying than the earlier nagging.</p><p>“Don’t do anything reckless, Elidibus can’t ignore your transgressions forever” Lahabrea said, his tone stricter now than before, with a hint of pleading compassion. The convocation and all its members were as family to Lahabrea, and he would prefer it if his younger sister, of sorts, would be so kind as to keep the peace. </p><p>“I won’t do anything that you wouldn’t have done at my age Lahabrea” Azem chuckled and waved her hand dismissively, an annoying gesture most certainly learned from a certain Emet-Selch, as she continued her walk towards the exit.  “Take care”</p><p>It is true that he himself had been a figure of some notoriety before he took the seat of Lahabrea. He had been reckless and passionate, burning as bright as his countless creations. At that time there was not much that could have stopped him from achieving his goals, truthfully, that was still the case, but with age and responsibility came self-control. Lahabrea could only pray that Azem would reach the same conclusions as him and grow wiser with age. </p><p>As the woman left the building it suddenly dawned upon him where she was headed. The one known as Hytlodaeus was notoriously unpredictable, and a good friend of Azem’s to boot.  As the head of The Bureau of the Architect, he could grant her the concept she needed to summon Ifrita. Lahabrea realized that Azem had most certainly come to the same conclusion, and he sighed as he brought his hand to his forehead. As he stood there, brow furrowed, trying to decide what to do, he ultimately sighed in defeat and turned to walk the other way. And thus, in the end, for reasons unknown even to himself, he did not try to stop her.</p>
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